


Because of You

by sweetNsimple



Series: "Morally and Legally Unacceptable Histories" ~ Nanao-chan [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1970's - 1980's, AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Can't fix Steve, Dependency, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Isolation, Love, M/M, MIT, Manipulative!Steve, Minor Character Death, Not in a sexy way, Oblivious!Tony, Pedophile!Obadiah Stane, Psychological Torture, Rhodey is mentioned very briefly, Sensory Deprivation, Sociapath!Steve, Stane is a Pedophile, Steve might break Tony, Stockholm Syndrome, Underage!Tony, offensive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because of you/ I never stray too far from the sidewalk./Because of you/I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt!/Because of you/I find it hard to trust, not only me, but everyone around me!/Because of you/I am afraid..." ~ Reba McEntire ft. Kelly Clarkson, "Because of You"</p><p>“...  Thank you, Steve.  And, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to hurt you that way.  I never understood – I'm sorry.”</p><p>“The great and prideful Tony Stark...  I don't think I've ever heard you apologize this much.”</p><p>“I don't think I've ever hurt you this bad before.”</p><p>“Yes, well, I did some bad things to you in turn.  Don't worry about it, Tony.  I love you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because of You

“Steve, Steve, you have to let me out, alright? Because we're pals, remember? Best friends forever, Ernie to my Bert, you remember that? Steve, Steve, stop, don't ignore me, don'tclosethedoor, STEVE – WE CAN BE MORE IF YOU WANT, I WILL BE SO GOOD TO YOU, MAKE YOU FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD! Yeah, that's right, don't go, just, just... stay. I'm your Tony, just yours, I know that now, you know that... You can have me, no joke. We both know I've never done the deed before, I'll be tight and hot, oh-so perfect for you.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah? Yeah, babe? Steve?”

“I love you.”

“I, I love you, too. Always have. Steve... Please. Steve, noNoNO – ”

~::~

“Am I bad?”

Steve looked down at him with a frown. “What? No, Tony, of course not. You are the best little trooper I have ever known. And, if you must know...” He got that pretty twinkle in his eyes when he liked to tease Tony. “You're my favorite too.”

“There aren't any other little troopers around,” Tony said indignantly.

Steve agreed with a shake of his head. “They weren't good enough to keep around – not like you.” He kissed Tony's forehead. “Why would you think you're bad?”

“Well, _I_ don't think I'm bad. I mean, I'm a genius. I'm hardly even a boy!”

“You're four years old, Tony, of course you're a boy.”

“Little boys don't make circuit boards from scratch.”

“Mmm... This is true... Well, cookies and milk are for little boys, and so are naps and sitting in my lap, and wearing my sweaters...”

“I _may_ still be a boy... Y'know, 'cause I'm four.”

Steve chuckled. Then he got serious again. “Who made you think you're bad?”

Tony kicked his legs out and tried to make them as long as Steve's. But that was impossible, because Steve's were practically miles of muscle and sinew. Okay, not literally miles – it just looked that way compared to Tony's. 

“Mom and dad, they, uh... They never really want to see me. I mean, I love you and all – you're my favorite person in the whole world – but... Jarvis won't even say hello to me. He walks away whenever I try to talk to him. A-and mom gets this really tight look on her face, like she's not supposed to be around me. Dad... Does he even know I exist? Am I bad? Am I not doing enough? Am I doing something wrong?”

“Oh, sweetheart...” Steve hugged him close. “You're not bad, and you do more than you'll ever know. It's just... Well. Your parents are bad.”

Tony blinked up at him.

“They can't handle you. Not because you're hard to handle, but because they don't want to know you. And it kills me, Tony, _kills me_ , that I'm the only one who can see how precious and wonderful and beautiful you are.”

“Maybe there's something wrong with you,” Tony said, hurt in his heart.

Steve cupped his chin in his hand and smiled down at him. “I'm Captain America, Tony. Good, smart people went through a lot of trouble to make sure that nothing could go wrong with me. I'm also Steve Rogers, and my mama raised me right. Your parents, on the other hand... Your father can't stop drinking, and your mother is a whore. Jarvis only comes here for his hard-earned money. That doesn't make him a bad person, it just means that he can't get attached, just in case he ever leaves.”

“He, he liked me, though. He did! He liked all my drawings and ideas and said that I was a genius, and he was happy to know me.”

Steve's face drew in tight and angry for a second. “Yes, well... I suppose that means I have to have a talk with him. He was probably hoping that he could talk you out of your allowance.”

“My allowance? Why would he want that?”

“You don't know this, baby, but you make more money in a week in allowance than most people do working for a month.”

Tony sagged against him. “So... So people only want me for my money? Nobody wants me for me?”

“No, baby, no... I want you. I want to be with you now and forever.” Steve practically crushed him to his chest, curling his long, broad body around him like he could stop the world from taking him away. “No one will ever love you, or need you, more than I do.”

~::~

Obadiah Stane smiled a sly smile at Tony and asked to see what he was drawing. He crouched down beside him, hand low on his back, too low – getting lower, “Obie, what are you doing?” he asked, confused by his godfather's hand inside the back of his pants.

“Hey, Tones, why don't you explain to me what this is?” Obadiah asked instead of answering, tilting his head at the designs Tony was making. “Wow, you're getting really good at drawing. Captain Rogers' influence, I presume?”

“Yep. But he's still way better at it than I am, you know? I want to show his art, but he says that I'm too young to be an art director – Obie, that feels weird.”

“Why don't you tell me what this is. An engine, I can see that, but it's something I've never seen before...”

“Stane.” 

He jerked away from Tony. Rogers stood in the studio doorway, thumbs hooked in the front of his belt, face closed off and eyes hard with feet braced apart. There was no way to skillfully slip past him – he had the opening filled from side to side to bottom to top. 

Tony lit up when he saw him. “Steve! Look, I'm almost done with my engine specs. We can start building it by tomorrow. It'll be ace!”

Steve kept looking straight into Stane's eyes, letting him see the monster behind the patriot. Stane was meeting it now, face to face – the beast that had survived twenty-five years in the ice, awake and aware, in constant pain and deprivation. 

And that beast wanted Stane's blood.

He shifted to kneel behind Tony, putting him between them. Everyone knew that Tony was the only way to get to Steve. Steve's world, from the moment he could put his hands on Maria's belly and feel its swell, had revolved around Anthony Edward Stark. And from the moment he came into the world, there hadn't been a soul, not even his parents themselves, that could separate him from Captain Rogers.

He doubted very much that he would get away with what he had just done alive, much less unharmed. If he could keep Tony with him, long enough to get out of the mansion, he could possibly get on a plane to an SI branch in Malibu and then – 

“That's wonderful, Tony,” Steve said, never looking away from Stane. “How about I make cake to celebrate?”

“Rockin'!”

“I need you to be my helper and get everything out for me, alright?”

If anyone else had asked that of Tony Stark, he'd have a screaming, wailing fit, lock himself in the studio, and complain about how he was a genius and not their laborer. 

However, this was Rogers, and Rogers had Tony well trained. He leaped to his feet, put his sketches on the drawing table, and launched himself through the wide V of Rogers legs and into the hall with an inane giggle.

Stane didn't even have enough time to grab him and make a counter bribe. 

Steve quietly shut the door behind himself – locked it – and glared coolly at him. “Did you enjoy that, Mr. Stane? Your hand down my boy's pants?”

“Now, Captain Rogers,” he tried, searching for a way to put doubt into the others jagged mind, “I think there may be a misunderstanding between us. You look very angry. Tony and I were just talking about his drawings, nothing more, nothing less. There's no cause to be upset.”

“Angry?” His expression suddenly became worryingly serene. “I'm sorry, Mr. Stane, I didn't mean to make you think I was angry. I understand. Honestly, I do. My boy's a beaut, isn't he? I know I can't keep my hands off him. He's all wild, thick hair and Please-You-Please-Me brown eyes. And he's so tiny. He would be tight, wouldn't he? And hot. Can you imagine how vocal he would be, beneath a big, hard body, getting his little ass fucked till it was sloppy and loose?” 

His hand shot out and grabbed Stane between his legs. He couldn't stop the small, choking sound of surprise and alarm that escaped him.

Then, the supersoldier began to _squeeze_. “You're never going to find out, of course. Because he is my boy. Now, Mr. Stane, I don't care where you put this dick – not really my concern at all. And your hands, they're your own too. If someone else can't keep a good enough eye on their kid with you around, that's their problem. But, Tony? He. Is. _Mine_. And if I ever even see you alone with him again, I will cut this,” he twisted sharply, and Stane made an embarrassing keening noise of agony, “off and your hands too, make a sandwich of it, and force feed it to you. Do you understand me, Mr. Stane?”

He kept his hands by his sides. As a smart, resourceful man, he knew that trying to fight Captain America as he was now was a very stupid idea. He had to stay calm, had to listen and play nice...

And then he would make his move and get his revenge for this humiliation. Maybe he would even fuck Anthony in front of Rogers, make him see what Stane thought of 'his boy'.

The idea, the beginning of a plot, was enough that he nodded and said, demurely, “Of course, Captain Rogers. Tony is all yours.”

Rogers stared at him for a very long time with that something wrong, that something unnameable and mean, snapping at Stane in the back of his ice blue eyes.

Finally, Rogers smiled, rather bashfully, and pulled away. “That's swell, Mr. Stane. I'm glad we had this talk.”

Even as he stepped to the side, however, and politely wished him a good day, Obadiah knew that Steve didn't believe him anymore than Stane believed himself.

~::~

“You've been studying experimental and correlational psychology,” Carter argued, just as she had been arguing for the past fifteen minutes. “You must know what he is going through, a way to make him better. That terrified creature in the other room, that was not the man I knew.”

Howard Stark, tired and angry, head pounding, couldn't keep it back any longer.

“He was awake, Peggy,” he said. Even though Carter had already gone quiet, the air around her somehow became even quieter. “And maybe he was able to sleep, eventually, but you can't will yourself to sleep forever, not by sheer force of conscious power. We think, we hope, the initial impact knocked him out, put him under long enough to not feel the ice build on him. Do you know how cold it is in Antarctica? If it was you or me in his place, we'd stop moving in under two minutes, be unconscious in fifteen, and dead before the hour. Do you understand? The jet broke _through_ the ice – the water poured in around him and froze before he had time to drown. 

And if he was awake for that? Enough to try and swim his way out? Maybe he had ten minutes to try. Maybe more or less. As you can see, though,” his voice was bitter, “it must not have done him any good if he had. So we hope that he hadn't. The panic, the false hope, feeling yourself running out of air, your lungs burning and all you can hear is more water coming in, the sound of your heart going wild – and then feeling yourself freeze? Ever walked outside on a nippy day? Felt your ears and cheeks tingle, so you'd jack up your collar and hurry inside? _He was in the fucking ice with no way out for twenty-four years_ , Peggy! With his metabolism, how long do you think it was before ketosis kicked in? Before his body started eating itself? How long before he didn't even feel hungry anymore, didn't even think about how damn thirsty he was, couldn't even feel his body because he was so numb? At that point, you have to wonder if you even have a body, if you ever had, and you start to doubt if you ever existed because everything is so quiet and your heartbeat is so slow that you can't even tell it's beating at all and you're just a mind without physical form.

At the end of all that, when you're trying to remember all the things that meant you were alive and your mind starts playing tricks on you, you finally just have to ask yourself – how long have I been here? And, you know what? The answer is twenty-four years, but I bet he counted seconds like they were centuries before we were even on the right damn continent.”

Peggy sat across from him, tight-lipped, face pale, back ramrod straight. Her hands had folded in her lap, and she looked at him with eyes that screamed in pain for the man she had loved, but she didn't cry. Not again.

“Is there.... anything we can do?” she finally asked in a low, uneven voice.

“We're trying it. It's not working.”

She closed her eyes and just breathed, and Howard bowed his head to give her some privacy while she collected herself. She was happily married, had come to be at peace with the past. But she had always believed that Steve Rogers would be found, and she had wanted to be prepared to welcome him back with a warm smile and her friendship.

The angry, unfocused man in the other room, however, wanted nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with anyone or anything, really. 

Rogers screamed loud enough to be heard through the wall, making Peggy jump.

“He does that sometimes,” Howard told her when she whirled to her feet to investigate. “Just to see if he can.”

“Can he, does he remember how to speak?”

“'Course he does,” he told her. “He remembers everything. Photographic memory, remember? He _told_ me that he screams just to see that he can. And then he tore open his knuckles punching out a mirror and cried, because he was scared of his own reflection and then because he was relieved his blood wasn't made of ice.” That had been a sight. Steve's initial panic attack giving way to childlike wonderment at the sight of blood spilling over his fingers and down the back of his hand, gushing steadily from his knuckles. He'd touched it – pressed his fingers into it till it hurt, and then laughed. Because it hurt, but it wasn't cold, and it didn't burn the way the cold had.

He'd told Howard that too. And then he'd stopped talking again. It was one thing to know how to, and another to do so without thinking really hard about it. Twenty-four years of screaming internally and never making a sound would do that.

This was the fifth week without him saying a word.

There was a steady knock at the study doors and then Maria, his wife, pushed her way in. She looked happy, and sad that she was happy, and professionally stoic, as was her default look.

“Oh, Margaret. It's a pleasure to see you again.”

Peggy tried for a smile and nodded her head in greeting. “Maria, how do you do?”

“Well. Better, even. It's actually what I wanted to talk to Howie about.”

Peggy raised a brow at that, glancing at him and wordlessly asking, 'Howie?', to which Howard's expression told her to never speak of it again.

“I know why I've been sick lately,” Maria said. “Howie... Howard...” Her happiness finally won over the sorrow that had been haunting Stark Mansion since Rogers' arrival. She practically bloomed in radiance.

“I'm pregnant.”

~::~

Tony was fourteen years old when he was accepted into MIT.

He didn't know why, but Howard and Maria (he didn't call them mom or dad anymore. They didn't want him? Well, fuck them – Steve wanted him. Steve was all he needed.) got edgy about it. Like they were afraid of him leaving.

“Whatever,” he said, and rolled his eyes. Steve wouldn't be proud of him for it. He thought it was rude, and rude just wouldn't do in Captain America's book. But Steve was in Lebanon, and Tony had no respect for these two people who had had a child and then had handed him to someone else probably before his umbilical cord had even been cut. “It's not like I need to talk to you two about this anyway. I want to talk to Steve.”

“Captain Rogers will be back later tonight,” Howard said. Even when Tony talked back to him, he never rose to the bait and fought back. There was always this barrier between them, something made too strong for Tony's rage and need for parental figures to break through. Maybe it was hatred, maybe it was indifference, but, sometimes, Tony thought it was fear. What were they afraid of? Him? Probably.

Tony was already smarter than Howard, so he was most likely frightened by Tony's intelligence, or that he would usurp him at Stark Industries. Maria had probably wanted a girl and was terrified of all the things Tony would get up to. Maybe she had a bad dream about boys, or had a bad experience, and the only man she wasn't afraid of was Howard. Who knew?

Who cared?

It wasn't like they were going to change now, and he wouldn't be receptive towards them if they did.

“Tony, you might not want to show him this,” Maria tried to say. “You would have to leave, and you would be busy with schoolwork on top of your SI duties and PR.” She paused for a moment with her mouth open like she was about to say one thing, but then had to think of something else. “You would have less time to spend with Steve.”

“Well, yeah, it'll be more work than I already do – but I think it kind of goes without saying that _I just got accepted into MIT at fucking fourteen years old!_ Steve will understand.”

“Please,” Howard said, always courteous to Tony, like a serial killer he has living under the same roof, “your mother is a lady and should not be cursed at.”

 _Your mother_. Right. That was fantastic.

“I can handle this,” he told them, angry that he had to justify himself to these two strangers. “Steve will be proud!”

~::~

“Steve? Steve, please, please, don't close the door, don't, it's too dark, it's, it's too _quiet_. I can't, I can't live like this. If you're going to kill me – then just do it! I'm begging, just kill me, don't close the door again.”

“Sshh, sshh, don't cry, Tony. I love you. I didn't mean for this to go on for so long, but you're just so stubborn. I'm sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to come outside with me? It's okay, don't be afraid – nothing's changed. Not really. It's night outside, so it won't hurt your eyes. I'll hold you – just like this – till you're ready to put your feet in the grass. See? I love you, Tony. You mean everything to me. I could never hurt you.”

“Steve, Steve... _This_ hurt!”

“No, no, it didn't. Maybe it wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't painful. I made sure that you had food and water, and that you were warm. And there was room to move around, wasn't there? And walls that you could touch. There were all sorts of textures to keep you occupied.”

“There were four ff-freaking walls, and you kept me naked!”

“It's okay, you can curse at me, Tony. You don't have to be afraid that I will do that to you again if you curse. It was terrifying, wasn't it? And lonely. The walls started talking to you, didn't they? How long do you think you were in there?”

“... I don't know.”

“That's okay, I made sure not to bring meals by regularly. I didn't want to give you a way to tell time accurately. How long did it feel like you were in there?”

“... Too long. Steve, it was too long. I wanted to die, I couldn't stay in there anymore! I started thinking, 'Even if Steve comes in here and beats my ass, at least it'll be something new'.”

“I would never beat you. I can't. You're too precious to me.”

“Steve – Steve, no, I don't, can't I just look from here? No, no, no –”

“That's it, just hold onto me. You're safe. We're outside, and it's nighttime. It's warm, feel that breeze? See the stars and the moon, all smiling down on you? It's okay to be afraid and relieved at the same time, Tony – the world hasn't ended, and it certainly won't tear you down. Just hide your face here, just like that, and we'll stand here till you're ready. Just breathe, Tony. Listen. I won't let you fall.”

“Steve... Steve, I'm sorry. Don't put me back in there.”

“I won't, sweetheart. I hated doing that, but I needed you to understand.”

“Understand? Understand what? That it sucks to be alone? That I can't handle everything? That I'm _weak_?”

“Hush, baby, you're not weak. You're actually pretty strong, considering what I put you through. And everyone breaks eventually, Tony, no one can handle that forever. I would know. And, yes, it does suck to be alone. But what I wanted you to take from this was how _I_ felt, Tony. In the ice for twenty-four years, awake and aware. How many times did you lay down on that floor and try to sleep till it was over? Till I let you out or you died naturally?”

“...”

“And it didn't work, did it?”

“...”

“I tried to sleep too. And I would pray to God that I wouldn't wake up. But I did, every single time. I would wake up, and I had none of the comforts that you had. I didn't have food or water or warmth, or even the space to move a single goddamned inch. I couldn't do that to you. I let you have the things that, over the years, I prayed for the hardest, and denied you the thing that I wanted most – to die. Did you know that, even after they pulled me out of the ice, I still wanted to die? The world was different already. Twenty-four years. It was already a different lifetime. Do you know what changed, what made me want to live?”

“... Me?”

“Yes. Yes, Tony, you. And my world has revolved around you ever since Howard and Maria told me they were expecting. When I saw you with that negro, I got angry. You didn't deserve that.”

“Rhodey didn't deserve – ”

“Yes. Yes, he did. Because you're mine, Tony. You are everything that I want, need, and, well, everything that I care to have. And he had his hands on you. After being in that room, if I just up and walked away right now and left you alone right here –”

“Don'tputmedownPLEASE – ”

“...”

“...”

“Do you see, Tony? Even though I did that horrible thing, and killed that negro that you liked, you would still rather hold onto me than let go. Tony, it hurt me to see you with him, because you're my everything. Maybe you won't ever forgive me for what I did, but, please, don't do it again? I can't promise I won't kill your next partner. If you want to do that sort of thing, you can come to me. I'm physical perfection, remember? I can give you my body. I can't lie and say that I have much experience with, you know, 'sex', but I know you don't either. We can learn together, see what makes each other go crazy and come apart. Or, if you want something else, you can come to me for that too. I just... I know I can't make you need me as much as I need you, but I need you to depend on me for these things. Please, Tony? I love you.”

“... I love you too, Steve. I've always loved you. I, yeah, okay... But I want to go to Rhodey – Rhode's funeral. He was still my friend...”

“Yes. Yes, he was, and I'm sorry I had to do that. Of course you can go to his funeral. I won't stop you from respecting the dead.”

“... Thank you, Steve. And, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you that way. I never understood – I'm sorry.”

“The great and prideful Tony Stark... I don't think I've ever heard you apologize this much.”

“I don't think I've ever hurt you this bad before.”

“Yes, well, I did some bad things to you in turn. Don't worry about it, Tony. I love you.”

~::~

Steve's face went through some interesting emotions. Terror, anger, desperation, concentration, consideration, acceptance, excitement... 

Finally, he looked happy about Tony's acceptance letter. Steve smiled at him and pulled him into a tight hug. He kissed Tony's cheek. “I'm so proud of you, Tony. Look at how smart and amazing you are.”

Tony preened beneath the attention. “I am pretty amazing, aren't I? And smart goes without saying.”

Steve chuckled. “Yes, but I still like to remind you sometime. It puts me on your good side, and that's where I need to be when the stove stops working.”

“I knew you only wanted me for one thing!”

Steve looked at him as if he was the answer to life, death, and happiness. “I want you for everything, Tony. You're my baby boy.”

It was by force of will and pride that Tony didn't blush. He didn't want Steve to know he was a fairy. Steve loved him so much – probably as a son or brother or something equally sentimental that made him off-limits beside the fact of being, obviously, a man. Just like Tony.

He had to keep that secret close. It was probably the only one he had, and that made it all the harder not to tell Steve and look for his acceptance, like he had been doing the whole of his life. 

No. He would go to MIT, and he'd find some men with his problem, and he'd finally get laid. Hopefully by fags who would rather not out themselves than those who would sell him to the papers for fame.

If he did it well enough, with the right people, Steve would never have to know. Steve would never have a reason to be ashamed of him.

“We'll look for a good apartment close to campus,” Steve was saying, looking fondly at the acceptance letter. “One with a basement so you can keep doing your work.”

“Wait, _we_?”

“Of course.” Steve gave him an innocent look. “I'm going with you. I mean, not to MIT, but we should live together. Someone has to protect you, Tony, you're a very popular target for ransom.”

He said that, but Tony had never even been kidnapped. Howard had even sat him down when he was six and told him that it would happen, and he'd told him that their policy was never to deal with terrorists, but they would have their best men on finding him and bringing him back, so don't be afraid...

Whatever, though, right? Maybe someone had tried to get him at one point or another and Steve had stopped them. He was Captain America, after all. They were probably in jail or something.

What was more important was that Steve was going with him. Tony had actually been – a little – nervous about leaving Steve. He can't really say, aside from some missions that Steve had taken from the army, that he'd spent more than a day away from Steve. Steve had even talked Howard and Maria out of sending him to a boarding school so that they wouldn't have to be separated. 

So there was a little relief that, even if Tony got too busy to make time for Steve, at least he'd see him before he went to bed at night, or in the morning over coffee and breakfast.

Sadly, though, there was even more horror.

How would Tony be able to hide anything from Steve if Steve was living with him?

“Tony? You don't... _not_ want me to go with you... do you?”

Steve's face had gone completely blank. Tony still swore he could see something shatter behind those baby blues.

“No, no, no – of course I want you to come with me! I don't think I'd be able to feed myself without you. You're kind of my survival guide when it comes to sustaining my lowly, humanly needs.”

Steve laughed and the life returned to his eyes. There was definite relief in the cut lines of his body. “That's good. I was scared for a moment that you didn't want me around anymore.”

“Are you kidding?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows at him. “I always want you. Around.”

He didn't know how he would mange it, but he would figure it out. Steve and being what he was.

He was a genius. It couldn't be that hard.

Steve kissed his forehead. “I always want you too, Tony. You really are the most important thing in my life.”

“Oh, so now I'm just a 'thing'? I am a person, you know. A very intelligent, handsome, millionaire person.”

“Yes, you are all that,” Steve agreed with a hum. “But you're also my baby boy, and I will never stop loving you.”

He felt familiar emotions flutter in his chest. Maybe nobody else in the world could care for him, but Steve, _Captain fucking America_ , loved him. He held onto that and let it boil fuzzily in his stomach and beat inside his heart.

Steve loved him with all his heart.

“I love you too, Steve.”

**Author's Note:**

> Should I add any other warnings? Is there slang that I should or shouldn't have? I appreciate constructive criticism, if anyone is willing to give it. Thank you for reading this, and I hope it was worth your time. Have a good day.


End file.
